Kate
by lilly32261
Summary: Neal contemplates Kate. Rated T to be safe. It isn't exactly going to follow certain episodes. Might be general spoilers somewhere. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Kate. Neal could remember every little detail about her. The way her sapphire eyes sparkled when she laughed, how he would get caught up in the giggles and start laughing too. The sweet scent of her brunette hair and the way she would twirl it around her finger when she was deep in thought.

He knew that she was amazing, and sometimes he still couldn't believe that she hadn't gone to Chicago. It was a huge step in the wrong direction, she had said. Neal could still remember how the emotions had bubbled up inside of him, like a can of soda that had been shaken, when she had knocked on his door. She had chosen him, even though he had nothing but a few forged bonds.

Details, details. They were all so vivid, so clear. But they were seen in a slightly rose tinted light, where he glossed over the little imperfections. There was one memory of her that came to mind all too often, one that wasn't doused in rose colored luminosity. That memory was sharper than a scalpel and it cut right through the fortifications carefully constructed between his emotions and expressions.

The plane. The sudden wave of blistering heat that struck his back with enough force to send him stumbling forward. He spun and tried to run to Kate, because she just couldn't be dead- she couldn't be! It couldn't happen this way! But Peter had stopped him, held him back, kept him from going to rescue his beloved. And most of Neal resented Peter for that. The FBI agent had stopped him from going to rescue Kate. However, a little tiny, so small part of him that could only be described as a smidge reminded him that Peter had saved his life. If he had gone into the flames, he would have died, right alongside Kate.

But maybe that's what he wanted.

Maybe that's why he contemplated suicide frequently.

Maybe that's why he was standing on the terrace with a gun raised to his head right now.

**Let me know what you think. Its my first fanfic, so be nice. Review please. I might continue it. I don't know yet. Thanks ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I've decided to continue this... the writer in me can't stand the cliffhanger ending without continuing it ;)**

Things I should have done in the first chapter and forgot: I don't own WC or any of the characters. I would love it if I did, but sadly I don't; that pleasure goes to the master of the cliffhanger, Jeff Eastin.

"Neal! I found something on Adler!" Mozzie yelled, entering the room anything but quietly. When no response was forthcoming, he said a little more softly, "Neal?"

There was still no response. The little man shrugged and headed over to the wine rack, like usual. He was selecting a bottle when something stopped him. Something was… off. He believed in following his gut instinct on things, so, feeling only a little guilty, he quickly searched the apartment.

When his expert search turned up Neal's cell, Moz started to worry. Neal never went anywhere without his cell. Never. But there was still no Neal, and June had said that she hadn't seen him leave.

That left the terrace. Mozzie contemplated it for a moment. No one in their right mind would go out in this weather. The charcoal colored sky promised rain, and even now he could hear the first fat drops that would soon give way to torrential floods start to fall. But then again, Neal wasn't exactly in his right mind.

Moz crossed the room faster than most would think possible for a man of his stature. It wouldn't hurt to check. He could just peek out the glass doors and then settle down on Neal's couch with a glass of fine wine.

He peered out the glass. At first, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. But concern for Neal prompted him to take one more look. And there! He saw the younger man standing at just the right angle so that one would have to be looking for him to actually see him.

Mozzie reached for the latch. Neal might still be grieving over the loss of Kate, but that was no reason for him to get himself sick by standing out in this weather.

Moz opened the door and stepped out into the now heavy downpour. He started across the terrace, surprised when his friend didn't turn around.

"Neal?" he called softly.

Neal still didn't turn around. Moz took another look at him, noticing for the first time the way his hand was held to his head, and…. Oh no.

"Neal, what do you think you're doing?" Mozzie yelled, recognizing the shape of a gun in Neal's hand.

"Go away, Moz," Neal mumbled, turning around for a second as lightning split the cloudy sky. "There isn't any other way."

Mozzie tramped over to the younger man. "Neal, you can't do this!"

Neal narrowed his eyes; he didn't like orders or rules, especially when they came from Moz. "Mozzie, you can't do anything to change my mind. I should have been on that plane with Kate, and I should have died with her. I should be with her now."

The younger man's face was wet, and Mozzie couldn't tell if it was tears or rain or both.

"Neal, just put the gun down. You can get through this. Remember when Alex had to fake her death and you didn't find out she was still alive until five months later?"

"That was different. I saw Kate die. I saw a dozen dreams go up in flames." The words were somehow empty, and as much as Mozzie just wanted to reach out and yank the gun away from his friend he knew that if he did one or both of them would get hurt. Neal was past the point of no return. There was only one thing left to do.

Neal's phone was still in his hand. Mozzie knew the suit's number by heart and he punched it in without looking down. "Neal, you can't go on like this. You need help."

"You're damn right I can't go on like this. Just leave me alone Moz. I want to die alone."

Uh-oh. If Neal was swearing, the apocalypse was coming.

…

Peter was on his way home from picking up the dry cleaning when his phone started ringing. He swore under his breath when he recognized the number. He couldn't help wondering what Neal had done now that he was calling.

"What is it Neal?" Peter asked as the dash answered the phone for him.

"Peter, this is an emergency. Get to June's as fast as you can. This isn't a time to be waiting for this lights to change, Suit. You need to get over here and stop Neal from killing himself."

"Mozzie?"

"No, it's Santa Claus. Suit, get over here. I'm serious when I say that I'm standing out here on the terrace with Neal and he has a gun to his head!" Peter was a little surprised that the venom filled words, but he realized that it had to be true if Mozzie was calling him AND using his real name.

"Dammit," Peter swore, making an abrupt U-turn in a place where he really probably shouldn't have. Other drivers leaned on their horns. "What is Neal doing out there?"

"There isn't time, Peter," Mozzie snapped. "You get here in less than five minutes or Neal is dead, and if Neal dies I will make your life a living hell. Now I'm gonna call June and get her up here too!"

With those oh-so-kind words the line went dead.

Peter shook his head sadly as he drove much faster than he should have, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. Neal was willing to ruin his life for the girl he loved. That meant that he didn't suspect. However, there was one little itty bitty tiny problem with that: Peter wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Neal had lost it all now. If he were to run there would be no stopping him. Peter knew that. That was why he was speeding towards June's to stop Neal from ruining his life… or ending it, as the case may be. El would kill him, Moz would make his life hell, and, well, that other person…. He didn't want to go there.

There was only one thing left to do. He had to get to June's, and get there fast.

**Okay… so. This is going in a MUCH different direction than I originally planned when I started writing this chapter. But whatever. I can't say that any of the other things I've written have turned out how I thought they would when I started them. Anyhoo, let me know what you think. Criticisms, suggestions, comments, etc. would be much appreciated- so review, pretty please! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so here's the next chapter. You guys probably know about as much as I do as for where this is going…..**

Peter pulled up to June's much sooner than he should have given the weather conditions and the traffic. He left the keys in the ignition and slammed the door behind him as he raced toward the front door. The heavy rain soaked his suit as he briefly considered knocking and then decided against it. June would forgive him considering the circumstances.

He threw the door open and tore up the stairs leaving a trail of wetness behind.

_I really hope I don't ruin the floors, _Peter thought as he opened the door to Neal's room.

…

"Neal, put the gun down!" Moz yelled. "You can't do this!"

"Please, Neal!" June pleaded. "Don't do this!"

Neal hesitated. Well, actually, screw that. He had been listening to the pleas of his friends for the past five minutes. He would have been swayed, gone back inside long ago, but the memory of Kate kept pushing itself into his mind.

He chose his words carefully. Maybe he didn't want to do this. But he couldn't stand the thought of another day living, knowing that Kate was gone and there was no way he could get her back.

"Moz, June, I'm sorry. I just can't go on like this. Kate is gone, and there is nothing I can do to get her back. I can't stand this anymore. Tell Peter I'm sorry. And I'm sorry if you get sick since you've been standing out here with me." He shivered, the freezing rain chilling him to the bone. He turned his back to his friends and was trying to gather up the will to pull the trigger when…

"Caffery, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Neal jumped and then turned around. "Peter?"

"Yeah. It's me." The response was short as Peter searched his mind for a way to get Neal away from the gun. He of all people knew that the con could be stubborn.

"I'm sorry Peter. Goodbye."

"Neal, put the gun down. You don't like guns," Peter said softly, stepping slowly toward the younger man.

Neal shook his head, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. "Go away Peter. I can't stand living without Kate any more."

Peter took a deep breath; it wouldn't help him to lose his temper. He might start saying things that really wouldn't help his cause. "Neal, do you really think that Kate would want you to do this?" he asked, taking another step forward.

Neal scowled. "It doesn't matter, Peter. She's gone, and… and…. I can't go on like this!"

Peter took another couple steps forward. Just a handful more, then he could get the gun away… "Neal, you're right. You don't need to go on like this. Don't you want to get… revenge for her?" He choked on the word 'revenge,' the very thing that he had been insisting was not the way to go. But maybe, just maybe, it would get through to Neal like 'justice' never would.

Neal shook his head. He shuddered and his chin wobbled. He was obviously fighting to keep it together. Peter could tell that he was close to breaking, but the FBI agent wasn't sure which way that would go.

He edged forward. He was close enough now. "Caffery, put the damn gun down, or I will send you back to prison!"

For a second Neal's grip loosened. That was all Peter needed. He reached out and deftly snatched the weapon away from his consultant. He put the safety back on and handed it to June as she stepped forward. Sadly, he realized how serious Neal was if he had taken the safety off.

"Peter, I- I-…." Neal broke off into sobs. He crumpled into Peter's arms.

"Shh. It's okay, Neal. It's going to be okay," Peter muttered, feeling rather awkward as the younger man pressed himself closer, unable to get close enough to the agent to feel safe. Shudders wracked his body, and, admittedly, Peter trembled too. His shirt was soaked with the freezing rain and tears, and Neal had been out here longer than he had.

Somewhere in the background Peter heard someone calling El. He wasn't sure if it was Moz or June, but it didn't really matter.

He sat on the wet stone of the terrace with Neal as the downpour continued. Neal kept sobbing into his shirt, and even though the temperature was steadily dropping and they were mutually being slowly frozen over by the glacial rain, Peter didn't have the heart to pull himself away from the younger man for long enough to get inside and maybe be thawed out just a little. Ruefully he realized that his suit was probably past the point of no return.

Peter didn't know how long it had been before June came over. She nodded slightly to Peter as she wrapped Neal in a motherly embrace. Peter slowly untangled himself from the con's arms and straightened up. He was shaking from the cold and the rain that had tapered off into a steady mizzle somewhere in the time that he had been comforting Neal.

Speaking softly to Neal, June slowly pulled him up. His face was teary and his brilliant blue eyes dull and bloodshot, but he was alive. Even if he did look thoroughly out of it.

June gently led him to the door and helped him inside, motioning to Peter that he should follow. The agent did, relishing the warmth that seemed happy to reside within.

"Neal dear, go dry off and change your clothes. There's some in the bathroom for you," June ordered him, handing him a towel and pointing toward the bathroom. He nodded blankly and followed her instructions, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. When he was safely out of earshot, June turned to Peter.

"Elizabeth should be here soon. Mozzie is waiting downstairs for her," she said, passing Peter a warm towel which he gratefully wrapped around his shoulders. "She's bringing you a change of clothes. I'm sorry, but I don't think I have anything that would fit you." Peter shrugged and wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

June watched him for a moment. "Peter, you should go take a hot shower. You need it right now." Peter opened his mouth to protest, but then they both heard the water start up from Neal's bathroom.

"Come, dear. My house has more than one bathroom with a shower you know," June said warmly. Peter followed her meekly, finding himself without the strength needed to argue.

She showed him to another bathroom and he was about to shut the door when he realized something. "June?" he called.

She turned. "Yes?"

"Is there anything in Neal's bathroom that he could…?"

She shook her head. "Moz and I took care of that. Everything in there is devoid of sharp edges except for the things we couldn't remove. We even took the mirror off the wall. I doubt that he would drown himself, no matter how desperate he is."

Peter nodded and started to shut the door when June added, "Peter, I'll have Elizabeth switch out your clothes when she gets here. And don't worry about using up the hot water. You and Neal will have an unlimited supply of that."

"Mm-Kay." Peter shut the door, shaking uncontrollably now. There was a deep chill in his bones. June was right. He really needed a hot shower.

**Comments, suggestions, cries out outrage, etc., you know where to put them. Oh, and please do share where you think this is going. Maybe someone will help me figure it out ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

Peter stepped back into Neal's gaily-lit room wearing the old college sweatshirt and pair of loose-fitting jeans that El had brought him. His suit had disappeared to who knows where while he had been in the shower. He assumed that El took it, even though it was most likely ruined from sitting on the terrace with a sobbing Neal while the hammering rain methodically soaked both him and his consultant to the bone.

"Honey, are you okay? June told me that you were outside in that rain with Neal, and…" El shuddered, standing up and running over to where Peter stood just in the doorway.

Peter wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. I'm fine. Where's Neal?"

"He's still in the shower," El murmured into his chest, pulling him over to the couch.

"How are you feeling, dear?" June asked him, handing him a cup of coffee. Peter almost turned it down but June just smiled. "Drink it. You won't believe that its decaf."

Peter laughed. "Thanks, June."

"It's nothing," she assured him. "Now if only Moz would come back from wherever he disappeared to."

On cue, the vertically challenged man came into the room. "Suit, do you know something that we don't?" he accused, pushing his slightly askew glasses firmly back onto his nose.

Peter bit down on the inside of his cheek. "What do you mean?"

Moz narrowed his eyes. "Suit, I want you to take a polygraph for me."

"Yeah, sure. Are you planning on giving me some truth serum while you're at it?" Peter asked sarcastically.

"I'd say yes if I didn't suspect that you were being sarcastic," Mozzie snapped acerbically.

"What are you talking about, Moz?" El asked, frowning slightly at the rather vague but venomous accusations the little man was making.

"If Kate is alive and you're hiding it from us, Suit…"

Peter jumped to his feet. "What? You think that I like to be called out here so I can sit outside with a crying, suicidal Neal under a downpour? You don't think that if I knew that Kate was alive by some miracle I'd tell Neal?" Peter found that the lies rolled from his tongue easily. Well, at least they didn't know.

Mozzie glared at him. "Suit, I don't bother to pretend to know the motives of the feds. And you're a fed. So give me the straight, clean cut, honest truth. Is she alive or not?"

Peter chose his words carefully. He knew that Mozzie had a strong sense of revenge. "It would appear that she's dead. I don't know how she would have survived the explosion. Right now I wouldn't assume anything."

"Honey, what's going on?" El asked, frowning. "What do you mean 'it would appear she's dead'?"

Almost as if it had been planned, the water in Neal's room switched off. Both men were silenced with a look from June. Mozzienarrowed his eyes and threw over his shoulder as he went to go sit at Neal's table in the kitchenette, "Don't think this is over, Suit. I noticed the word choice there."

Peter didn't get a chance to spit back a retort because suddenly there was a soft click from the bathroom door.

Moz turned around abruptly. "What was that?"

Peter frowned. "It sounded like Neal just locked the door. But why would he be doing that now?"

Mozzie stepped toward the door. He cautiously turned the knob before turning back to the little group. "It's locked," he confirmed.

Peter swore, moving over to where Mozwas standing. "Damn it, Caffrey. What's wrong with him now?"

Moz narrowed his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Do you want me to go through the list?"

El stepped forward. "Listen, can you two _please _try not to kill each other right now? Someone needs to get in there and see what's wrong with Neal. He needs help and I don't really like the idea of him locking himself in a bathroom."

Moz turned back to the door, reaching into a hidden pocket to pull out a lock picking kit. Peter threw his shoulder against the door in frustration but it held up. Moz held up a hand and expertly picked the lock. Peter was pushing the door open before Mozhad withdrawn his tools.

Peter heard the soft sobs before he even stepped into the room. Neal was sitting on the floor, soaking wet but thankfully fully clothed in a tee and soft gray sweats. His dripping head was held in shaking hands as he cried. Peter hesitated for a moment but then pushed his way further into the room. He crouched down next to the younger man and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Goodness, he hated crying people.

Neal shifted slightly and then peeked up at the agent through spread fingers. "Go 'way, Peter," he muttered, tears choking his voice, making him sound more than a little like a shunned child.

Peter wrapped his arms around the crying man. The soft cries that Neal had been doing his best to hide turning into massive wails that made Peter wince as the younger man clung to him for the second time in the same night. He dug his face into the agent's soft sweatshirt, either unaware or uncaring that his tears and hair would soak the agent's shirt. He muttered unintelligible strings of words, but occasionally Peter was able to catch 'Kate.'

It was a good five minutes before Mozzie came in, bringing with him Neal's fedora and a glass of water. The con's sobs had dwindled off again into soft hiccups and Peter had shifted so he was sitting next to Neal with his back against the tub. Mozzie shot Peter a poisonus glare and then carefully set down the glass and hat before leaving. A few seconds later he returned with El.

"Oh, Neal!" she cried, running over to him and hugging him.

Neal looked up at her blearily with bloodshot eyes. "Kate?"

El glanced at Peter who shrugged. She took in Neal's unfocused gaze and then nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. I'm here, Neal."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you," he whispered, choking on the words. "Don't leave me again. It was horrible."

Peter slowly stood up and brought his wife the glass of water and fedora. She turned to him and motioned slightly motioned to the door with her head. He nodded and slipped out.

El gave Neal a squeeze. "It's okay. You're fine." She offered him the glass. "Drink?"

He nodded and she raised it to his lips, helping him drink as she would a little child. Carefully, she dragged him to his feet, plopping the fedora onto his head. "Neal, it's okay. You're fine. I'm here."

He gave her a watery smile and put an arm around her waist. "Mm-hmm," he mumbled. "Don't leave."

She shook her head. "I won't. I promise."

She gently led him out of the bathroom and back into the main part of his room.

Neal stepped out of his bathroom and his arm was around El's waist. Peter was surprised but decided not to comment since he wasn't crying anymore, though his face was still streaked with tears and his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot.

Neal looked around the group. He looked tired and more than a little out of it. It seemed as though he was counting the people in the room. When he saw Peter, his face lit up.

"Peter!" he exclaimed, letting go of El and running over to him, almost bouncing up and down. "Kate's alive! She was alive and no one told me and I had a horrible dream that she blew up with the plane and..." the end trailed off.

Peter gave an uncertain laugh as El moved over to the con man. "Yeah, that's it, Neal. Why don't you sit down and have a drink?"

He grinned the trademark Caffery grin and it lit up the room. Peter realized how much he had missed it. "Sure. As long Kate wants a drink too?"

No one moved. Every eye was on the agent's wife and the con man who was offering his arm to her. She accepted it and allowed him to lead her over to the table. June passed him a cup of coffee and El a glass of water at her insistence that she couldn't have anything stronger this late.

Neal happily told El and Moz about his 'dream' as he drank his coffee. She smiled and laughed at all the right places, occasionally throwing glances over her shoulder at Peter who rolled his eyes at some of the more elaborated details.

By the time Neal was finished with his coffee and his story his eyes were drooping. Drowsily he stood up.

"I'm sorry, but I'm really tired," he mumbled. "I'll see you all tomorrow…. Kate, do you have somewhere to spend the night?"

El blushed. "Yes, Neal. I'll- I'll see you tomorrow." She glanced at Peter and shook her head slightly. "I'm kind of… busy tonight."

Peter's lips were a thin line. "Yes, Eli- I mean, _Kate_ is very busy tonight."

Neal nodded. "Okay, Peter. As long as she has a warm bed for the night. Moz, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, June."

He led them to the door and let them out, watching after them almost as if he wanted to be sure that they were leaving. Peter went first, then El, Moz following behind them and June last. Their little party was halfway down the stairs before they heard Neal's door shut.

Moz spun on his heel and climbed back up the stairs. "You three can go downstairs and decide the next course of action, but right now Neal is kind of on a suicide watch, just in case you haven't noticed," he whispered from several steps above them.

Peter nodded once and Mozzie scowled. "I'm not done with you, Suit."

And then he was gone, vanished into the shadows of the darkened staircase, leaving a shocked silence behind him.

…

A few minutes later they were all comfortably seated in the living room with a plate of food and warm cups in their hands. June was nothing if not a gracious hostess.

"Honey, what was all that about?" El finally asked. "The thing with Moz, anyway. I understand how Neal's feeling."

Peter took a deep breath. "Mozzie thinks that Kate is still alive. Simple as that."

There was a moment of silence, and then El said quietly, "Well, she isn't, right? There's no way she could have survived that explosion. Anyone can see that."

Peter gave a noncommittal shrug. "About that…"

"You mean that Neal is grieving for the love of his life right now when she isn't even dead?" El asked incredulously. "Peter, how could you not tell him?"

"It's safer this way, for both of them," Peter started, the usual cut-and-dry response that he had been giving coming to his lips. He was starting to suspect that everything he had been told about this particular operation was just a fancy excuse though. Would it really be safer to have Neal thinking that Kate was dead and suicidal because of it? Why couldn't Neal at least know that his girlfriend was alive?

"So, Kate really is alive, but because of it Neal needs to be watched because he is so depressed over her death?" June summarized. "Doesn't that seem like overkill?"

Peter sighed. "Yeah, I see the mistake now. I didn't know that it was this bad, otherwise I would have told him. I think I should tell him now. Screw what Hughes thinks."

"Ya think?" Mozzie snapped as he entered the room. "I don't know about you, Suit, but I don't like sitting outside in the rain with a suicidal Neal. You do realize that he's sitting in his room right now grinning because it was all a dream and Kate is alive?"

"We can't tell him anything yet," Peter said softly. "It just wouldn't work out."

"You might have orders, Suit, but I don't. Neal would quite possibly hate you for the rest of his life if I went back up there and told him right now that Kate really is alive but he's never going to be allowed to see her because its 'too dangerous'."

"Calm down," El soothed. "We'll think of something, and we'll make sure Neal knows."

"You do realize that he wouldn't have mistaken you for Kate if he wasn't so out of it right now? You realize that one of us would have to be in there with him making sure he doesn't try to kill himself again?" Moz retorted, turning to El.

"Don't talk to my wife that way!" Peter's voice was rising and he didn't bother to check his anger. It had been a long day and his patience was non-existent at the moment.

"Shouldn't you be heading home?" Mozzie suggested coldly. "I think we've had enough of your bureaucracy."

"Enough!" June said with just enough force that both men turned to look at her in astonishment. "No one is going anywhere in this weather. Peter, El, I have a room upstairs for you. Moz, you can keep your usual arrangements."

"No, I really think we should be going," Peter protested.

June firmly shook her head. "No. It's pouring rain out there again, and we all know that the roads will be nearly impossible to drive on. There's nothing to gain by leaving. Besides, you're going to want to take Neal home with you tomorrow and we can't exactly move him."

"Honey, stay. Satch will be fine, and this way you can keep an eye on Neal."

Peter crumpled at his wife's logic. Sometimes he wondered if it was possible to get his way where she was involved. "Fine," he assented grudgingly. "But only if we all agree to stay in our separate rooms." He shot a glare at Mozzie.

"That's fine, Suit. I'll stay in mine as long as you stay in yours."

El and June shared a look. It was going to be a long night.

…

She paced the cramped, dim room. Being locked up was really starting to get to her. How Neal could stand it for so long she didn't know. She hadn't even been in this particular room for a month, yet she was about ready to go to the feds standing outside her door and say- or do- anything that would get her out of this prison in disguise.

For the fortieth time(at least) she turned to the door leading out to the balcony. Okay, maybe it was a fire escape, but right now anything that could get her out of the room made her happy. For the fortieth time she turned away from the foul weather outside and back to the confines of her room, a strand of brunette hair that had escaped from her ponytail twined tightly around her finger.

After a few more rounds of pacing she snatched the phone off her bed. She dialed the familiar number, was about to hit talk… and then she realized that no matter what she couldn't call Neal. She hit end and this time punched in Peter's number. It was late, but if his phone was on then that was his problem.

Her blue eyes glared daggers at the yellowed wallpaper as the phone rang. There was a buzzing from the light that didn't do its job very well. As she was waiting she moved to the bathroom with its dandelion enamel tub(bathtubs weren't supposed to be that color last time she checked) and fragile looking toilet that was laced with cracks. The fractured tiles in a black and white checkerboard pattern seemed to glare at her from underneath their layer of grime and other things she didn't particularly want to consider. The sink was tiny and mostly taken up by the tarnished faucet that might have been chrome at one point in time. A dead cockroach lay in one corner along with several ants. As usual she ignored the suspicious, vaguely human shaped red-brown splatters on the wall immediately behind the splintering door.

"This is Burke. Leave a message."

She swore and hung up. Again she dialed the number. One ring. Two. She found herself holding her breath. Three rings. Almost to voicemail…

"This is Burke." The reply sounded groggy.

"Peter, I can't stand this anymore. You have to get me out of here. I'm going crazy!" She restlessly moved out of the bathroom and into the main part of the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed, and knowing it was foolish and juvenile, started jumping. She regretted it a few seconds later when she jumped a bit too high and hit her head on the low ceiling.

"What was that?" Peter asked, sounding a little more awake now.

"Nothing. Just my attempt at keeping my sanity with no way to get out of the room you rented for me. Did I forget to mention that its cramped, its tiny, and I'm claustrophobic?"

Peter swore. "Would now be a good time to mention that you're going to be moved in a few hours?" When his statement was met with a shocked silence, he added, "It's a suite this time, and it has an actual balcony."

"I'm tired of this, Peter. I don't care if its bigger; I don't care if it's a mansion. I need to get out, need to see people other than the agents who bring me my meals. Anyway, how's Neal?"

"Good." Peter's voice was guarded.

She froze. "Agent Burke, don't lie to me. How's Neal?"

Peter sighed. "He might have tried to kill himself earlier. He's sleeping now… he's fine. You don't need to do anything rash. It's all under control."

"Sure it is, Burke. I'll call you tomorrow. I can tell you're tired and not thinking straight. You had better be confused and thinking that Neal was suicidal because you had a very odd dream." Then she hung up on him. It was starting to become a habit.

She stared at her phone for a minute. She hated to admit it, but she knew that Peter was dead serious when he said that Neal had tried to take his life. There was something in the agent's tone of voice that didn't leave room for humor. That left her with one thing to do.

She dialed the number again. This time she pressed talk. This time she let it ring. This time she smiled at the familiar voice, the familiar message.

"Hey, its Neal. Big brother's watching, so leave a message at your own risk."

"Neal, it's Kate. I need to talk to you. Call me back."

And with that simplistic message, Kate hung up.

**Lol. I think I've figured out where this is going. Comments, suggestions, cries out outrage, etc., you know where to put them. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, thanks for putting up with that craziness in the past two chapters. I have no clue what happened there and I'm going to repost the chapters or something to try and fix it. All I can say is that it wasn't that weird on my computer when I typed it up. Anyway, I finished this last night so the next two chapters are up.**

Neal opened his eyes and slowly picked himself up from the floor. There was a half empty bottle of scotch on the table and his head hurt. The clear sunlight streaming through the various windows, doors and skylights didn't help a whole lot. Grimly, he did the math the best he could with his thoughts flowing like thick molasses in the winter. With the headache he had, not to mention the bottle, his position on the floor and the glass laying on the ground relatively close to him, he had been drinking. Quite possibly drinking until he passed out drunk.

Speaking of which…

He got up and ran to the bathroom on shaky legs. It seemed as though everything in his stomach was fighting to come up first. He spent a few minutes puking. He couldn't really remember anything about last night, except for a storm, and… oh shit. No wonder he felt like crap. He had been getting drunk to celebrate Kate's return from the dead. But that wasn't possible!

He lay on the cool floor of his bathroom thinking. Eventually he reached one conclusion: Either he had been drunk then, drugged, or (the least likely of all options but still vaguely possible) high. Or… Kate wasn't dead.

Yeah, he was probably high then. Or drugged. Drunk was kind of out of the question. But it didn't matter enough right then and there for him to figure out which it was. As for Kate… well, she had to be dead. There was no way she could have survived the explosion.

Tears sprang to his eyes, and he let them come, memories flooding his sluggish mind. He curled into a ball and sobbed. Kate was dead, and there was nothing he could do.

Eventually he cried himself to sleep and slept peacefully on the cool tile of his bathroom.

…

A few hours later Neal woke to voices. He carefully kept his body completely relaxed and slowly cracked one eye open. From his vantage point on the floor he could see shoes. Very familiar shoes.

"He's faking, Suit," Moz said, leaning over.

Peter nodded. "I know. C'mon, Neal. You're fine."

Neal opened his eyes and started to sit up. He didn't take into account how dizzy he was. Peter and Moz each caught an arm and helped him sit.

Moz appraised him. "Neal, a word of friendly advice: stay away from the scotch."

Neal raised his eyebrows. "Really. And here I thought I felt like this because I slept on the floor."

"I'm sure that had something to do with it," Peter replied. "June has something for you, whenever you're ready to go downstairs. Either that or she can come up here."

Neal rubbed his temples. "Um, I think it would be best if she comes up here."

"Okay. Let's get you out there." With that vague warning Peter hauled him to his feet, still a little irritated with him after last night and his offering El his bed.

Neal took as much of his weight as he could. He ended up walking most of the way to his couch before collapsing onto it. Something stabbed into his back and he reached behind him to pull out his phone from where it had been dropped and left the night before.

"You've seen better days," Moz mildly commented as Neal dropped the phone face down on his stomach and closed his eyes as he moaned.

"I get it, Moz. I was loopy last night for whatever reason, I tried to kill myself, and then I went and got drunk because I thought Kate was miraculously alive. Bad choices, I know. I get it."

"Tetchy," Mozzie returned mildly.

"Shut up," Neal muttered. "Where'd Peter go?"

"He went to go get June and her hangover helper."

Neal pried one of his eyes open long enough to look at the screen of his phone. He had… one missed call? At midnight?

He flipped to the caller ID menu. He chose missed calls and there, in plain and simple, black and white, was a number and a name he never thought he would see again. Katelynn Halden. It was the full version of the name that didn't belong to Kate(she had simply been named 'Kate', nothing else) but it still made Neal surprised. It was a familiar alias, to be sure.

He hid his shock behind a mask of irritation and a hangover. June arrived after a mercifully short amount of time, and she brought Elizabeth with her.

"Neal, are you okay?" El asked, running over to him with a look of pure shock. He must look even worse than he thought.

"I'm fine," he mumbled as she pulled up a chair and sat down across from him. Peter brought a few pillows over from his bed and used them to prop up his head as June passed him a cup of foul smelling… something.

Neal drank it all in one gulp, trying his best to keep from making a face at the taste.

June laughed. "Tastes horrible, doesn't it? It'll help though. Byron used to come home with some of the worst hangovers. I found this particular cure in an old book that he conned out of someone and it seemed to work the best." She winked, and Neal managed to give her a half smile in return.

The headache already beginning to lessen, Neal asked, "So where am I going to be sent off to now that we've confirmed that I have suicidal impulses?" He clutched his phone until his knuckles were white. Hopefully no one would notice.

Peter shrugged. "It depends on if you can keep those suicidal impulses under control and not go around trying to kill yourself. For now I think you'll come stay with El and me. It'll be easier for us to keep an eye on you," he added bluntly.

"Whatever you want, Peter. Honestly, right now I don't care. I'll leave it up to you." Neal let the lies roll out of his mouth easily. He definitely wouldn't be doing whatever Peter wanted. And he did care. He cared a lot. He didn't exactly plan on leaving it up to Peter. For the first time in what seemed like forever he felt a tinge of guilt as he lied to his friend and partner for the first time. He had let the agent draw some incorrect conclusions but never outright lied before like right now.

Just as soon as he got a moment alone he would be returning the call after listening to the message. He just knew that there was no way that it was a prank. No one who had his number would be so cruel as to call under Kate's alias. And even if it was a prank, they wouldn't be calling at midnight.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, Neal forced himself to stand up. "I'm kinda… I don't know. I guess I just need some time alone. Is that okay?" he finished.

El stood up immediately. "Yeah, that's fine, Neal. Peter and I will be downstairs. Come on, Honey."

Neal started to walk over to the door, but El stopped him. "It's fine. We can show ourselves out."

He nodded. "Thanks, El."

When she and Peter had left, Moz said, "Neal, I need to tell you something."

Neal shook his head and sank back onto his couch. "I'm sure you do, Moz, but right now I need to sleep, or eat, or something. You can fill in the blanks for last night later."

"Seriously, Neal. This involves the Suit." When that statement didn't manage to get a response from Neal he added, "It involves Kate too."

Neal kept his face blank. "Moz, Kate is dead. I have to get over her. You can tell me later. Now please, just go."

Moz left, muttering to himself about mind control and various drugs.

Neal closed his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes and hit the number for his voicemail.

One new message. Received at exactly midnight. He waited with bated breath as the phone ran through its list of info that came before the message.

Finally, he heard what he had been waiting to hear. _"Neal, it's Kate. I need to talk to you. Call me back."_

He gasped and then started grinning. It was Kate! There was no way that could have been faked, and even if it was, there was nothing to be lost by trying to return the call. He exited the voicemail and dialed the number without looking down; there was something to be said for muscle memory.

There was one ring…. Two….

…

Kate jumped when her phone started ringing. She slipped back into her room via the open window from the fire escape and picked it up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Kate!" Neal yelled. "It really is you. I thought you were dead, and…."

Kate fought back a scream. "Neal! I miss you so much. Peter said that you tried to kill yourself last night? Neal, that's crazy, and… and… there's just so much to tell you, and half of it can't be said over the phone. Who knows who might be listening. Meet me at the place we always used to meet in two hours at the latest. I'll fill you in, and you can fill me in."

Neal laughed. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you in an hour, though it might be a little hard to lose Peter. I'll manage though."

"Until then," Kate giggled, feeling rather bubbly with the fact that Neal had called her back.

"I love you," Neal whispered. "Be careful."

"I will," she promised. "Meet me in an hour. You know where."

"Bye," he murmured.

For the first time in three months Kate wasn't the first to hang up.

…

Half an hour later Neal stumbled down the stairs, giddy with the knowledge that Kate was alive. He was in fact so caught up with his joy that he ran into Moz when he reached the ground floor.

"Neal?" the little man asked. "Are you okay?"

Neal jumped. "What? Oh, um, yeah. Sure. Of course." The sincere tone he tried to use was marred slightly by the colossal grin plastered to his face.

"Neal, did you hear me? You realize that I just asked if you would go rob a bank with me?"

"Sure, Moz. When?" Neal paused. "On second thought, what did I just agree to?"

Mozzie regarded him dubiously. "Neal, are you sure the suit didn't drug you? What's five times five?"

"Moz, Peter didn't drug me. The product is twenty-five, as you well know. I'm just… happy." He laughed.

Moz grabbed his arm and started back up the stairs. "C'mon, Neal. You're 'happy' already, so I'll tell you the mixed news now. Let's get you upstairs before the Suit realizes that you came down in the first place."

Neal frowned. "What 'mixed news'? What do you mean?"

"Not now," Moz hissed. "Just wait."

Neal allowed himself to be pulled back up the stairs by his little friend. After all, nothing could damper his mood right now. Kate was alive! Three months, last night, the gun… and now he knew she was alive. It was incredible and he almost couldn't believe it. But that had been her on the other end of the line…

"Neal, snap out of it!"

"What?"

Moz rolled his eyes. "Neal, what's wrong?"

Neal grinned. "Nothing. Moz, I have something to tell you!"

Mozzie shut the door and locked it. "Yeah. I have something to tell you too. You first."

"Moz, Kate's alive! She called me. I'm supposed to meet her at the usual place in an hour or so." The CI was almost bouncing up and down, his monstrous grin taking up the vast majority of his face.

Moz sighed. "Do you know why she hasn't contacted you before?"

"You aren't happy?" Neal demanded. "You aren't!"

Moz cut him off before he could get into a full out rant about the lack of emotion on his face. "Neal, I heard last night after you were passed out drunk. Peter was the one keeping her locked up. Did she tell you where she's at?"

Neal's grin got a little smaller. "Peter knew she was alive? How long?"

"He's known all along- or at least for most of all along from the sounds of it. He's the one that Kate has been keeping in contact with." Moz presented Neal with the Suit's phone. "Check his Caller ID. Most of them are *67, which I'm assuming would be Kate, and then there are some from the various other Suits, a few from El, but here, last night, seven and five minutes before midnight is a rather familiar number."

Neal looked at the proffered evidence. There was no way Peter would betray him like this, but Neal was a fairly realistic man. He realized that there was absolutely no way that this had been faked. And the number _was_ just a bit familiar.

He slowly sank onto the floor, his legs unable to hold him up. "Moz, it can't be true," he muttered weakly. "Peter wouldn't do this?" He had meant to make the last part a statement, but that wasn't how it came out.

Moz sat down next to him. "The Suit would do it. He did do it. But, I have to admit that maybe we're missing part of the story. You go to meet Kate. I'll stay here and cover for you. I should be able to cover for you long enough for you to get there. After that, I don't know what you'll do."

Neal pulled up his left pants leg. "Moz, its out of my radius unless buildings have suddenly begun to move."

Moz swore, something he did rarely. "Fine. Get as far as you can and once the alarms start going off cut it and run. Get to the café, and we'll figure it out from there. Keep your phone on you but off. Take the battery and the SIM card out. Call me when you get there, and we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Moz, the battery _and_ the SIM card? You're being paranoid."

Mozzie fixed him with a steely glare. "Neal, paranoia is a skill, the secret to longevity. Now go. I'll go distract the Suit."

Neal nodded. "I'll be out in a minute. I need to change and then I'll go."

Moz turned to leave but Neal stopped him. "Moz?"

"What?"

Neal swallowed. "Just in case things don't go as planned, thanks for this. Thanks for everything."

Moz nodded. "You too. Now get going and get going fast. You might want to take a bag too. Like you said, we don't know how things are going to go."

And then he unlocked the door and disappeared out into the hallway. Neal was so busy throwing a change of clothes and a shaving kit along with other essentials into a bag that he missed the heavy click of the deadbolt clicking into place.

He grabbed the hidden stash of money from the loose panel beside the bookshelf and stuffed it into his pocket after changing clothes. He wore a pale blue shirt with a darker tie. He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as he moved to the terrace and looked down.

He was four stories up. It might be a little hard to climb all the way… But there, less than a quarter of the way down was a ledge, and from there he would just have to make his way to the left and then onto a windowsill. From there he could get down by way of a few decorative outcroppings then onto another windowsill. After that he could climb down the ivy if he had to(which he knew from experience was strong enough to hold his weight without crumbling from the wall).

Without a second thought he lowered himself down after dropping his bag into a very nice shrub four stories down. It wasn't like there was anything breakable in there. His fingers and toes found the tiny niches in the brick, and for the first time in months he felt… alive.

He made his way down the sheer face of the wall as rapidly as he dared. This was familiar territory now and he was progressing much faster than most would have, but his speed still seemed horribly slow. Here he was, trying to go find the love of his life so they could run off into the sunset like they'd been trying to do before and the wall didn't have enough handholds and footholds.

He reached the ledge and started pushing himself along. He made good time until he reached an open window about halfway.

"Where's Caffery? Shouldn't he have been down by now?" Peter's voice wafted through the open window.

"Honey, I doubt that Moz knows…"

"El, of course he does," Peter muttered with obviously forced patience. "He probably told him that Kate was alive, and Neal probably went and did something."

Neal peered around the window into the room. Peter was standing with his back to the window but El and Moz were both facing him. The door opened and June stepped in.

"Is Neal ready to go yet?" she asked. "Lunch is ready to go whenever you want to come down."

"Not yet," Peter replied. "We were just on the topic of that, actually."

June nodded. "I see. Well, maybe I could shed some light on that."

Crap. There went a perfectly good chance to get away. Moz wouldn't give him away, and with June's background it was doubtful that she would do anything to make Peter turn around, but he didn't know about El.

After a few minutes of them discussing his possible whereabouts, Neal decided to take his chances. He held his breath and pushed himself over a little farther- just enough for everyone but Peter to be able to see him. He pressed a finger to his lips and widened his eyes. He could only hope that they would get the message.

June continued talking but from the way she motioned with her hands let Neal know that she had seen. Moz met his gaze for a second and nodded slightly. El's eyes widened and her lips parted. Neal desperately shook his head. Her lips closed and she nodded slightly and then gave a minute shrug.

Neal mouthed a single sentence. I'm going to meet Kate. He paused, and then added, Moz.

She nodded slightly.

He mouthed one last word: Thanks.

Then he eased himself past the window and closer to the meeting with the girl who had stolen his heart.

He was long gone by the time Peter turned around to see what everyone had been looking at.

…

Kate lowered herself to the ground. She had a petite messenger bag slung across her torso. It contained a few credit cards and enough cash for the taxi fare along with a change of clothes and a fake ID. A few hair things, her cell, and some random pieces of gum completed the ensemble. It was the most she would need. The rest of her current possessions were meaningless crap bought by the FBI after the explosion.

Her hair was pulled back into a silky braid that hung almost halfway down her back. She was wearing a beautiful plum colored crocheted sweater with droopy sleeves that reached just below her elbows open in the front over a deep azure tunic that bordered on the edge of modest with its elegant, swooping neckline embroidered with twisting vines and flowers in a slightly brighter blue. Her jeans were well worn and comfortable in a dark yet somehow soft navy blue. Her favorite necklace sat a few inches below her neck after she had ended up replacing the chain after it had been broken. A pair of pear cut Ceylon sapphires that hung a couple centimeters below her earlobe completed her outfit of favorite clothes and jewelry that had been rescued from her apartment by Peter when she demanded it.

She crept around the back of the seedy hotel, careful to avoid the various agents that circled like vultures around the building to 'ensure her protection'. She had long doubted that story, but now it didn't really matter. She was going to meet Neal and together they would escape into the sunset.

Something made her uneasy about all of this though. Hadn't she had the perfect plan to escape off into the sunset before? And look at how that had worked out. Maybe sunset escaping just wasn't her thing.

She pressed those thoughts down as she slipped into the shadows to hide herself from the agent who was passing. As soon as he was gone she silently ran to the corner. She peered around and ended up pulling back and ducking behind an AC unit as another agent passed.

She forced herself to stay still just long enough for him to get out of sight and earshot before running back to the corner. This time there was no one coming and she ran over to the fence and quickly scaled it, lightly dropping the ground five feet below. She stepped out of the alley with confident steps borne of years of assisting Neal with cons. She hailed a cab with the ease of someone who had been doing it their whole life and climbed in at the same time Neal did the same a block away from June's house.

Simultaneously they gave their respective cabbies their destination and then both pulled out their cells in order to modify them. Neal waited until the light on his anklet turned red and then he removed the anklet using the key that Moz had nicked from Peter and slipped into his pocket when he wasn't looking. He told the cabbie that on second thought, he was going to get off here and stepped out of the cab after paying and giving the man a generous tip. He would need it after the investigation the FBI was probably going to give him.

Neal waved down another cab and this time took it all the way to the café.

Soon he would see Kate once again.

**Hey, let me know what you think, as usual. Review please!**


	6. Chapter 6

Neal stepped into the familiar café and spotted Kate immediately. He recognized every part of the outfit she wore, including the nondescript tan messenger bag much like the one Moz favored but slightly smaller. She appeared to be studying the slightly overcast New York sky out of the window but he knew that she was really scanning the crowds both inside and outside.

He approached the table slowly, hands in his pockets. From her reflection he could see that her eyes were slightly unfocused and she was staring outside dreamily, lost in her own little world for the moment.

He couldn't resist. He snuck up behind her and put his hands over her eyes, leaning over to whisper in her ear, "Guess who!"

She jumped with a muffled shriek and turned around. "Neal!" she yelled, months of sorrow, hurt, frustration, and, more and more rarely as the months progressed, hope showing in her voice.

Her face was lit up with a bright grin, and her hair was in a braid down her back. Neal was suddenly taken back to a time so long ago, a time when he had snuck up on her after they had first met so long ago…

_Neal Caffery sauntered into the bright café doing his best not to draw attention to himself. The air smelled of Italian Roast and various teas. The room was spacious and there was plenty of space between the tables for two, three, and four for a couple to walk side by side. The tables were polished and shining with their cleanliness, and many who frequented this little place wouldn't mind eating off of them, or, in the case of some, performing a surgery on them. There was a comfortable ambiance to the place, the feeling that nothing could ever go wrong here. The sound of traffic faded in here, maybe because of the conversations or the soft music, but most likely because of the amount of stress that immediately lifted when you so much as set foot in the place._

_Chatter filled Neal's ears as he made his way to the table by the window, and more importantly the girl sitting at it, that had caught his attention. He had seen her the night before, all dressed up and the most beautiful, breathtaking creature he had ever seen, which was saying something for one of his profession. But now, dressed in jeans and a casual but somehow dressy green shirt that slipped off her shoulders and hair in a simple braid she was even more lovely. As usual, even in the short time he had known her, his heart gave a little flutter at the mere thought of her._

_She was staring out the window, lost in another time and place, her blue eyes wistful. Neal knew that she wouldn't notice if he sneaked up behind her; she probably wouldn't notice if a doctor came and performed an open heart surgery on the table she was sitting at._

_He couldn't resist. He tiptoed behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands. "Guess who?" he murmured playfully in her ear._

_She jumped and turned around. "Nick?" she asked in surprise when she registered who was behind her. _

_He almost corrected her. Almost. "Yeah. I saw you sitting in here, and I was wondering if that inviting spot across from you was taken?"_

_She blushed. "Not today, Nick. Another day it will be. Michael's out of town this week on a business trip. He's looking at some firms in Chicago."_

_Neal nodded and smoothly seated himself in the chair. "Ah. I see."_

_She laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah. It's been a kind of lonely week."_

_Neal leaned forward, trying to find a way to say what he wanted to. Finally, he settled on something he was certain about. "You want to see a magic trick?"_

_Kate smiled. "Sure."_

"_Take off your necklace," he instructed. "Just hold it in your hand."_

_She did as she was told and he curled her fingers inward, trying his best not to start grinning at the soft feel of her fingers._

_After a few moments he directed her to open her hand. The glimmering sapphire was gone. _

_She grinned. "How'd you do that?"_

_He shrugged. "A magician never reveals his secrets."_

_She laughed. "Can I have it back now?"_

_He put his hand out, and she lightly put hers on top, palm up. He tenderly curled her fingers in once again. Again, she opened her hand. This time the necklace was safely nestled in her palm._

_She smiled at him, fingering the delicate chain. "Why do you delight in making my favorite necklace disappear?" she teased._

_He shrugged. "Gives me something to do."_

_She offered it to him. "Will you put it back on, pretty please?" she asked winsomely._

_He took it and leaned in close, his arms wrapping around her as she pulled her braid up and he secured the necklace in place on her neck. He was about to pull away but then realized how perfect this moment was. _

"_Kate?" he asked softly in her ear._

"_Yes?" she asked innocently._

"_I love you. Will you…?"_

_She pulled away, her face desperate and sorrowful. It tore at his heart, and deep down he knew the answer._

"_Oh, Nick," she whispered. "Nick, I'm so sorry. I- Michael isn't just an acquaintance. I- I'm going out with him. He thinks that we're going to be moving out to Chicago soon. Soon as in a few weeks soon."_

_Neal hid his disappointment the best he could. Luckily a waitress came up at that moment and asked, "Would like anything?"_

_Neal shook his head and stood up. "No, I was just leaving."_

_He walked out of the café that day without a single glance backwards…_

Neal took in Kate's smiling face and pulled her close. "Kate… I… I don't know what to say…. I missed you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Neal, I missed you too. I love you, and I don't think I can live without you." She looked up at him expectantly and then locked her lips on his.

The kiss was tender and sweet, and for a while afterwards Neal just held her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. After what seemed like forever she pulled away slightly and murmured, "Neal, I want to run away with you. I have all my things packed and everything."

He nodded. "So do I. I stowed my things away since it would look funny coming in here with a mostly empty duffel bag. I cut my anklet and I ran. Moz knows but Peter doesn't. If we were to run, now would be the time."

Kate bit her lip. "So it would be good-bye to New York if we did?"

Neal nodded. "At least for a few years."

She sighed. "I love it here… but to keep you I'd jump off a cliff. Let's go."

…

When Peter got the call from Diana asking why he had cut Caffery's anklet, he swore for five minutes straight without once repeating himself while he dug his keys out of his pocket and found the anklet key missing and then ran down the stairs and into his Taurus.

He slammed the key into the ignition and floored it. He was heading to the place where Caffery's anklet had been cut. He didn't care that it was still moving; he knew that Neal was smarter than that.

He ended up on a fairly normal street. There was nothing anywhere around in plain sight that Neal would want. When his phone rang a few seconds later with the agent who was supposed to be watching Kate calling to inform him that she had ran Peter hung up.

He knew where Neal was. Now it was just a matter of getting there before he screwed his life up for Kate yet again.

"_Are you okay?" Peter asked._

_Neal nodded, shook his head, and then shrugged. "Kate's dead. I'm just having trouble accepting that, I guess." He shrugged again and fiddled with his tie. "Really, it's nothing."_

_Without diverting his attention from the road Peter listed the things that weren't okay with Neal: His hands were shaking, he was wearing the same tie he had worn the day before, there were bags underneath his eyes which were rather bloodshot, he had been wearing that shirt since Monday and it was now Friday. On top of all that he couldn't focus half the time and tended to start staring off into space if you talked to him for too long. He was not, by any standards, okay._

"_Listen, Neal. You can pick where we go to eat. I don't care if its out of your radius or super expensive as long as you help me pay the bill. If its way across town that's fine."_

_Neal looked up from his tie, his eyes brightening. "Really Peter? I can?"_

_Peter nodded. "Just decide fast."_

_Neal didn't hesitate. "Take a right at this light."_

_Peter glanced at him. "Neal, where are we going?"_

_The consultant shrugged. "You won't know the name of it. I'll just give you the directions."_

_Peter decided not to question and followed Neal's directions until he pulled up to a friendly little café just out of his two mile radius._

_Peter climbed out of the Taurus and waited while Neal released himself from his seatbelt. Together they walked up, Neal's eyes growing distant as he pointed to a table in the corner set beside a window._

"_Mm, it smells good in here," Peter commented. "Italian Roast."_

_Neal nodded. "Yeah, they make really good coffee here," he mumbled absently._

_Peter examined his consultant's face as he ordered. When it was Neal's turn, he simply said, 'The Special'. The waitress smiled and practically glided away from them. _

_Halfway through their meal, Peter asked, "Neal, how did you find out about this place?" He noted that Neal was obviously in a different place and time with somebody else in his mind, but he looked better than Peter had seen him for just over a month now._

"_It was where I asked Kate out," Neal finally whispered. "And where we used to meet when it wasn't safe for us to be seen as a couple. She always liked this table. Well, she liked this place in general."_

_Peter nodded once and they ate the rest of their meal in silence. Neal was smiling to himself by the time Peter had paid the bill and the dishes had been cleared away. Peter worried for a moment what Neal might be smiling at, but he realized that he hadn't actually seen a genuine smile from his CI for a while so he decided to just go with it._

_A few minutes later Neal was ready to go. As Peter drove back to the office he noted that Neal was less pale and not so twitchy. He managed to pay attention more and he seemed to be on the road to recovery._

_When Peter learned how early that little café was open he started to take Neal there for breakfast, and he improved drastically. He looked more like the old Caffery, even if there were still heavy bags underneath his eyes. It wasn't so obviously hard for the con to fake a smile, and he seemed to be more alert._

_The place where he had asked Kate out was pulling him closer and closer back to his old life, the life he had had before the explosion. Peter didn't want to admit it, but maybe some little part of Kate was doing Neal some good for once…_

Neal bought a coffee and Kate purchased some tea. Both were to go. The recipients of the drinks waited patiently hand in hand while their separate refreshments were concocted. Neal overpaid for the coffee by about twenty dollars, but it didn't matter. It was the least he could do for the staff here.

Kate glanced at him as they stepped out of the café. "Are you sure you want to do this? There won't be any going back."

Neal shrugged as he pulled his duffel bag out of a hidden alcove. "Katie, I've known what the consequences of running would be for quite a while now. I'd rather go back to prison for life than lose you again. Let's go."

A grin lit up her face as he hailed a cab. For the first time in months she felt complete as she leaned into his familiar warmth. They would leave and they wouldn't look back. There wouldn't be a trace of Kate Moreau or Neal Caffery after they left New York. Those identities would be burned, and maybe that would sadden them for a while, but in the end it wouldn't matter because now that they were together again nothing would be able to keep them apart. Not even the FBI.

…

Peter ended up passing more people than he drove behind and ran more red lights than he stopped at green ones(which wasn't exactly hard). He pulled up to the tiny café to see Caffery and Moreau walk out hand in hand, smiling, talking.

Peter swore when Neal pulled out a duffel bag. There was no way this could end well.

Peter was halfway out of his car when Neal held up a hand, obviously hailing a cab. He took off running for the couple. He had to catch them before that taxi stopped. To his dismay, he was too far away to do anything when the cab pulled over and Neal motioned for Kate to get in first after opening the door for her.

The agent was about to turn around and get back into his car to pursue the offending taxi when Kate was yanked into the backseat.

…

Neal pulled the door open for Kate. "After you, Madame," he said with a flourish.

She giggled and started to climb in. "Thank you, kind sir."

He grinned and was about to give a witty reply when she gave a muffled shriek and was roughly pulled into the vehicle.

Neal stepped forward, ready to fight even against a gun to save Kate. "Let her go!" he snapped.

A man passing by casually twisted Neal's arm behind him until there was a gasp of pain. "Are you sure this is who we're looking for?" he asked someone in the cab.

There was a muted reply and then the man turned Neal around. "Get in the cab," he ordered. He was wearing a heavy overcoat and had a hat pulled low so Neal couldn't make out his features. When the con hesitated there was an audible click and he added, "Get in the car or we shoot your girl."

Neal peered in through the open door. There was another man dressed much the same as the one holding him. He had one gloved hand pressed over Kate's mouth while the other held a gun to her head. Kate met Neal's eyes and shook her head furiously until it was brutally jerked to the side.

Neal swallowed. "I'll come. Just don't hurt her."

The man holding him laughed. "Such a good little felon. And look at this! You even lost your anklet just for us. We feel so special."

Neal climbed into the back without hesitation. Kate scowled at him, obviously upset that he would put his neck on the line for her when she was giving him a way out.

The door slammed shut behind him and the man who had held him disappeared back into the pedestrian traffic. The car was dimly lit with darkly tarnished windows and a horrible stench. It was horribly crowded with four in the backseat(there was another man that Neal hadn't seen before behind Kate) along with Neal's duffel and more than a few mysterious wrappers and assorted food bits on the floor.

The driver turned around and showed a face that badly needed a shave and a disgusting smile with precious few yellowed teeth. "Looks like we caught the fish we needed," he spat. "Call the boss, would you?" he aimed at the passenger seat.

There were a few beeps and then a slight movement of the shadows in front of Neal.

"Good. Now, I think it's time we put our little fishes to sleep."

There was a momentary flash of light reflecting off metal, and then the needle buried itself in Neal's neck. His breath caught in his throat at the unexpected sensation, and he opened his mouth to protest but ended up giving in to whatever drug they had given him much sooner than he could get the words out.

…

Peter turned back to his Taurus. Caffery got into that taxi, and that probably wasn't a good thing given the man who came up behind him right before he got in. Peter realized that the best thing he could do would be to call for backup and shadow the cab.

He was reaching for the handle on the door when a rag was pressed over his mouth and nose. He recognized the sickly sweet smell of chloroform and realized just how bad this might be as his body succumbed.

His last thought was very eloquent: Shit.


	7. Chapter 7

Neal came to slowly. The first thing he was aware of was Kate leaning into him. She gave a soft moan as he tried to move at least one limb. Her head rolled loosely on her neck as he shifted.

He soon gave up on the insane notion of actually attempting to stand, let alone walk. Crawling seemed pretty out of the question too. His limbs were floppy for lack of a better word and it seemed so much easier to just lay there…

He blearily took in his surroundings. As lethargic as his thoughts were he was able to conclude that the floor was cold, the walls were white, and there was a door. There weren't any furnishings in the room(unless you counted the three bodies on the floor) other than an evil-looking sink in one corner that Neal decided was glowering at him. He gave it the best defiant glare he could muster and then let his eyes shut again. Sleep was better than getting into a staring match with the sink.

When he opened his eyes again he managed to drag himself into a fairly upright position. To his dismay, the sink was still there, and it still appeared to be staring at him. Somewhere to his left Peter stirred and then mumbled, "Where are we?"

Neal shrugged. "I wish I knew. They knocked me out. You?"

Peter sat up. "Yeah. Chloroformed me. I hate that stuff."

Neal laughed weakly at Peter's expression. "Well at least you can get up somewhat."

"How's Kate?"

Neal stroked her forehead. "She's still out. How long do you think we're going to be trapped in here?"

Peter shrugged and dragged himself to his feet. "Not much longer, if I can help it. Do you think you could pick the lock on the door?"

"Yeah, if I could get up."

On cue Peter came over and dragged the con to his feet. "C'mon, Neal. Let's get you over there."

Neal managed to make it to the door before sinking to his knees. He pulled out his lock picking kit and selected the tools he would need. After fiddling with the lock for a few seconds he shook his head. "Um, no. My fine motor skills leave something to be desired. I don't think I'm going to be forging any paintings or bonds anytime soon."

Peter swore. "Great. We're stuck in here then, until either you manage to pick the lock, Kate picks the lock, or someone comes to get us."

Neal shrugged. "It's kinda nice in here. Quiet. Not to small. The only problem I have with it is the sink over there. I think it's glaring at me."

Peter laughed. "I'm sure it is, Neal. Either that or you're more than a little out of it."

Neal scowled. "It's not my fault it doesn't like me."

Peter helped him to his feet. "It's fine Neal. I'm sure its heard of your reputation but hasn't really gotten to know you and your charming personality yet. I think that it won't be glaring at you in an hour."

"Really, Peter? You think so?" Neal asked happily as he sat down next to Kate.

Peter didn't get a chance to retort because Kate opened her eyes and muttered, "My head hurts."

Neal's face lit up. "Well maybe if you hadn't spilled your tea all over them they wouldn't have drugged us," he teased.

She made a face. "Or maybe if you hadn't opened your mouth and irritated them," she returned groggily.

Neal brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "Go back to sleep. You'll feel better and be able to move some."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "I can move just fine, Neal."

Peter laughed at the two. "You know, watching you two I wonder how you ever managed to get anything done." He paused. "I also wonder how Neal was so hard to catch."

Kate laughed weakly. "That's easy. We had Moz making sure we got things done, and I made sure Neal stayed well away from you."

"He got caught because of you," Peter reminded her.

She scowled. "Peter, it _is_ rather rude to stalk people. It just isn't socially acceptable. Don't forget that they only reason you knew where I would be so you could get the word passed along to Neal was because the bureau was stalking me."

Peter shook his head. "I wasn't stalking you! I was merely, ah, keeping tabs on your whereabouts so I could catch Neal."

She nodded in confirmation and glanced at Neal. "I rest my case."

"Wow, Peter. You stalked El until she said she liked Italian stuff, you stalked my girlfriend so you could catch me… have you ever considered a career as a creeper?"

Kate snickered and pulled herself into a semi-sitting position with Neal's help. "You know, I think it's a little to late for him to start considering it. He's been one for how many years now?"

Neal nodded musingly. "Touché."

Peter threw his hands up. "I give up. There is no arguing with the two of you. Maybe we should consider getting out of here instead of debating my career choices?"

"Aw, but Peter," Neal protested.

"Debating over your career choices is fun," Kate finished for Neal without missing a beat. She pouted.

Peter rolled his eyes. "It's like working with a bunch of children," he grumbled. "Children!"

Kate casually reached inside Neal's pocket and pulled out his lock picking kit. "Well, see you suckers, but I'm getting out of here."

Neal and Peter both opened their mouths to protest and started with the first syllable of whatever they were going to say as she pulled herself to her feet and stood up. She smiled sweetly at them and then laughed at their open mouthed shock.

"Neal tends to wake up first, but I recover sooner," she said in way of explanation as she stepped toward the door. "Besides, this room is already getting too small for my taste. And that sink over there is glaring at me."

Neal gave Peter a triumphant glance and then staggered to his feet. To his delight, his legs seemed more willing to take his weight and he made it to the door just as Kate withdrew the silvery lock picks.

"Are we ready to get out of here?" she asked Peter. "Or does the Suit wish to stay here a little longer?"

"I wanted to get out of here as soon as Neal woke up," Peter replied, not rising to what he suspected was an insult.

Kate raised her eyebrows and then pushed the door open. "After you, gentlemen."

Neal frowned. "I thought it was ladies first."

She laughed. "Yeah, but I'm not putting my neck out on the line for Agent Burke. Someone else can go first."

Peter sighed and walked out of the door. "Children. It's like working with children!" he muttered again. After a few seconds, he added, "It's safe."

Kate followed Neal out just in time for one of the men from before to come around the corner. With a gun.

Peter swore and Neal pushed Kate to the ground. The man pulled out a walkie-talkie and snapped an order into it. Kate pulled the two men up and dragged them with her down the hall.

They turned the corner and stopped. Kate tried to catch her breath while Peter panted, "What now?"

Neal shrugged and started pacing. Kate leaned against the wall and, to her surprise, the wall gave in. She staggered to the side, trying to regain her balance. Neal reached out and caught her elbow as Peter moved towards the newly opened wall.

"What's in there?" Neal asked.

Kate moved over to Peter, leaving Neal standing by the corner. "I can't see anything," she mumbled.

"There has to be something good in there if it's hidden…" Peter commented, peering into the inky shadows.

Kate was about to step in when Neal pushed both of them in from behind. He followed and the door to the hidden room slammed shut behind them just as the sound of voices and feet filled the narrow hall.

Kate wormed her way out from the bottom of the pile first and felt along the wall for the light switch. Her nimble fingers soon found it and she turned it on. A harsh fluorescent light bulb over their heads flickered into wakefulness for just long enough for Kate to see her messenger bag, Neal's duffel and an unfamiliar briefcase piled neatly on the floor next to Peter and Neal who were lying in a jumbled heap on the stark floor.

As the light died she commented, "Well, this must be awkward for you two. Neal, it kind of hurts that you look like you're about to kiss Peter. I thought you loved me!"

Neal hastily picked himself up. "Um…" he said in defense.

Kate laughed and flicked the switch off and then on again. She was rewarded with a few more seconds of light, which was more than enough for Neal to collect her messenger bag and Peter to grab the briefcase. Neal ignored his own bag; the less they had to carry the better. It wasn't like there was anything too terribly important in there.

Peter felt his way over to the door that they had been pushed in through by Neal and ran his fingers around the frame. There was an audible click and the room brightened slightly. Peter turned toward them slightly and whispered, "Ready to make a run for it?"

Kate nodded, as did Neal. Peter couldn't see them, but he knew that they had assented. "On three."

"One," Neal added.

"Two," Kate whispered, her blue eyes bright.

"Three!"

Peter pushed the hidden door open and plowed through a number of people who appeared to be security guards. Kate followed behind him with Neal in the rear. The people in the uniforms gave chase.

Kate was aware of following in Peter's footsteps and her heart pounding in her ears. Neal was behind her, as was yelling. She was dying to turn around but by now she knew better. Either the love of her life was behind her or he wasn't and either way there was nothing she could do to change anything.

The building smelled of antiseptic and sweat. The blank hallway filled her line of sight. The only thing with even a little spark of color was Peter in his old sweatshirt and jeans. She forced herself to go faster, just as Peter slipped into a little room.

He caught her arm as she rushed by, yanking her into the relative safety of the storage closet. Neal slipped in almost immediately after her and slammed the door shut. He leaned against it, panting heavily.

Peter ran to the filing cabinet. "Neal, help me!"

Together the two men pushed the heavy piece of furniture to block the door while Kate kept watch.

"What now?" Neal asked breathlessly, his perfectly styled hair more than a little mussed.

Peter shrugged. "We're locked in here. I guess we'll try to hold out makeshift fort until Jones and Diana can get here."

Kate checked her phone. "No service," she muttered.

Neal laughed. "The one time I would appreciate my anklet, I don't have it."

Peter sighed. "Maybe it'll be a while before Jones and Diana get here."

"More like if they get here at all. How long do you think we'll last in here?" Neal looked around the narrow room. The only way out now was through the window, and they were more than a few stories up. And it wasn't like there was a Mozzie-bought bakery with an awning below them.

Kate scowled. "I hate being locked up. I think I've had enough of that to last a lifetime."

Neal grinned. "You don't think I haven't?"

Kate shrugged and restlessly moved to the window. "Are you sure...?"

Peter shook his head. "Would you two stop it? You'll live with being locked up in here for a few hours."

Neal got up and joined Kate. "What if Jones and Diana don't get here after a few hours? What then? There's no water in here, and the most we would have for food would be paper." He politely ignored the issue of how they would go to the bathroom.

"Ooh, tasty," Kate said sarcastically. Neal could tell that the prospect of being confined to a tiny room with a FBI agent wasn't appealing to her. It wasn't really appealing to him either. But maybe the big difference was that he trusted Peter, and they had laid their lives on the line for the other more than once.

Kate moved away from the window and started pacing the room uneasily. Peter slowly sank down until he was sitting with his back against the side of the filing cabinet. Neal pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and started folding it, occasionally glancing out the window to remind himself that there really was a way out of here if he had to take it.

Ten minutes later Peter had turned his phone off to save battery life and was staring off into space with the patience borne of years on stakeout. Neal was just putting the finishing touches on his most recent crane when Kate snapped, "I can't stand it anymore!"

Neal dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the ground with the others as he moved to Kate. Her breathing was uneven and shallow, and much faster then Neal would have liked. He knew she was claustraphobic, but it wasn't usually this bad.

He put his hands on her shoulders. She tried to pull away, mumbling incoherent strings of randomness but he drew her closer. "Kate, look at me," he ordered.

She slowly raised her eyes to meet his calm, brilliant blue gaze. "I can't be in here anymore," she mumbled, her fingers tugging desperately at the hem of her shirt.

Neal slid one of his hands down until it came to rest on the small of her back. The other he kept on her shoulder. "Breathe," he says softly, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles. "In through the nose, out through the mouth."

Kate pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him. Neal continued to rub her back as her breathing gradually regulated.

"It's okay," he murmured into her ear. "You're fine."

She relaxed into his touch as he continued to hold her, relishing the feel and smell of the woman he loved so much, the woman he had thought to be dead after the explosion.

Peter watched, feeling more than a little awkward as he fingered the briefcase beside him. Neal had his back to him, but Kate's face was open for the first time he'd ever seen, and her eyes were closed. She looked much calmer than she had been a few moments before, freaking out because of the small room, but was still a little tense.

He watched as without a word Neal led the girl he loved over to the window and opened it up enough for the soft breeze to caress her face. Kate opened her eyes and breathed deeply, her hand straying to the fresh air outside. It seemed to help her a lot, the shakiness in her legs that she was doing her best to hide subsiding and the color returning to her face.

Peter suddenly got the urge to call El. He wished he could but there was no way to get service in this little storage closet. He was just grateful that they had run into one with a window and a filing cabinet. Even with those little perks, it was depressing to think that they could be stuck in here for any amount of time, especially if Kate was claustraphobic.

On cue, Peter heard the return of whoever was behind it all. The doorknob wiggled and someone swore. Neal reflexively turned around, his hand straying for his cell. Who he could call, Peter didn't know.

"Are they in there?" one of the men beyond the door asked.

"Yeah," another answered. "They couldn't have gone anywhere else."

There was a moment of silence. The air in the storage room was tense as Neal left Kate's side and padded over to Peter who was now standing, torn between pushing against the makeshift barricade and getting out of the way. Kate turned from the window and glanced at the door before moving to Peter's other side.

Neal looked at Peter and raised his eyebrows. Peter shrugged, and opened his mouth to reply, but Kate pressed a finger to her lips and shook her head. Peter gave a slight nod and mimed pushing against the filing cabinet. Neal and Kate nodded just as the room shook and the door splintered.

Kate, ignoring her own advice, asked, "What was that?"

Peter's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. "They're going to break down the door, filing cabinet or no."

Neal turned back to the window and started pacing. "What should we do now? No offense, Peter, but I think it's kinda unlikely that Jones and Diana are going to get here to rescue us. I find it questionable that even Moz could miraculously arrive to save us right now."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, you have a point." His hand strayed to the briefcase. The door rattled in its frame and even from their obstructed vantage point they could see that the door was beginning to tilt dangerously.

Peter swore. "Damn. Okay, Caffery, Moreau, you're going to run. I'll cover you from back here."

"Peter, no!" Neal protested. "You'll die. They'll kill you!"

Peter pushed the briefcase into his hands. "Neal, this was kind of the plan all along. Not the dying part. You and Kate need to get out of here. trust me when I say they'll leave me alone for long enough to escape if you leave. I'll be fine. You are the ones who need to worry."

Peter took a deep breath.

"Neal, all along we planned to send you away. It isn't safe for you and Kate here anymore. the plane incident proved that." Neal shook his head, but Peter held up a hand. "Neal, take this. Go. I'll call you when its safe."

Neal accepted the briefcase. He looked completely natural holding it. No one would guess that it held a couple forged birth certificates, along with a fake marriage certificate. A phony passport was nestled safely inside, because with Neal Caffery and Kate Moreau no one knew where they might need to go on a short notice.

Peter appraised him and then nodded. "You'll probably be ready to kill me by the time its safe to come back. You've got a house where you're going, and the bureau will pay for it. You just have to stay there and keep your heads down. It's close enough to Las Vegas that you can get away with conning people as long as you do it discreetly and not too often. Now help me move this filing cabinet and make a run for it. Don't look back."

Together Neal and Peter pushed the filing cabinet away. The door shook again. Now it was hanging by half a hinge. On the next blow it would give way.

"Goodbye," Neal whispered, his fingers white around the briefcase handle. He wrapped an arm around Kate's shoulders and got ready to run.

"Bye, Neal," Peter returned. "Now go!"

The door gave way and Neal and Kate took off. Kate kept place with Neal and together they ran to the end of the hallway, Peter easily sending bullets flying close enough to scare the men following too close to the couple. Right before he turned the corner, Neal turned and waved once to Peter.

Then he was gone, around the corner. Kate didn't look back.

…

Neal stepped out of the terminal and glanced around at the various drivers. With a nostalgic smile he remembered the time he had worn one of those outfits until Moz came and brought a better plan with him. He wasn't expecting to see one of them holding a card in front of them that said 'Mr. and Mrs. Halden.' With Kate's fingers interlaced in his he was prepared to ignore it until the man stepped forward.

"Mr. and Mrs. Halden?" he asked.

Neal nodded. "Yeah?"

"I've been instructed to take you to your new place of residence on orders of one Peter Burke." The man gave a friendly wink and showed Neal the corner of his badge.

Neal turned to Kate. "Look, I guess we won't need to get a cab," he laughed. "Our, ah, friend seems to have thought of everything."

Kate laughed. The laugh faded away when they reached their destination two hours later.

"There isn't any grass here," she muttered.

The driver laughed as Neal helped her out. "Welcome to Pahrump, Nevada. It's fairly remote and its size fits our needs. Good luck!"

Kate promised right then and there that if she ever saw Peter Burke again she would kill him for this. Literally. And slowly.

Neal decided right then and there that when it was safe to go back to New York he would make sure to keep his girlfriend- or should it be wife? He had the marrige certificate, after all...- away from his partner on pain of death. Literally. For Peter, anyway.

Life was going to be different here. But they would adapt. They always did. And when it was safe for them to return to The City That Never Sleeps he and Peter would take down whoever was pulling the strings and he would get his happily ever after. He had to. He thought he could live for being out of the official loop for a few months.

Either that or he could call Moz...

**Ok, so here's the end of this particular fic. I think that there'll be a sequel later… or maybe not. I dunno. Please, share your thoughts on this final installment!**


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